


Eyes the Color of Midnight

by Scholastica



Series: A Different Path [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Female Severus Snape, Marauders Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scholastica/pseuds/Scholastica
Summary: On a full moon night in Fifth Year, Sirius pulls a terrible prank that leaves James struggling with its consequences.
Relationships: James Potter/Severus Snape
Series: A Different Path [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879939
Comments: 6
Kudos: 335





	Eyes the Color of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is a Marauders Era story that features a female Severus Snape.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

“So I told the little harpy if she wanted to know where Moony goes to follow him through the passage under the Whomping Willow.”

James Potter blinked; the loud raucous sounds of the Gryffindor Common Room around him suddenly muted to a single point.

“You did what?!”

Sirius laughed. “Having trouble hearing tonight, Prongs? I said-”

James leaped to his feet, the Quidditch magazine he had been reading up until a few minutes ago crashing to the floor by his shoes, along with a letter from his parents and a bar of Honeydukes chocolate he had been looking forward to enjoying. “Yes, I heard what you said, Pads! And I’m wondering if you’ve gone completely mad?!” Anger welled up inside the bespectacled boy. How could his supposed best mate be so completely careless about something so serious? His voice dropped to a fury-laced whisper as he said, “She could be killed! Remus could be expelled. Not only that, he could be sent to Azkaban if something happened!”

Sirius waved him off and leaned back into the sofa he was currently claiming all for himself, the very picture of aristocratic arrogance – something he would absolutely hate if someone told him that. “I was only joking when I told her. I’m sure she didn’t actually believe me.”

James let out a growl of frustration. Could his friend really be that dense?! There were jokes and then there were jokes. This was not one of them.

“Of course she’s going to believe you!” James snapped. “This is Snape we’re talking about! She’s going to believe you because she doesn’t believe you!”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Sirius replied, lifting his arms up and crossing them behind his head, his attention drifting to a pair of pretty Sixth Year girls sitting at a nearby table. “And even if she actually did…who cares, right? It’s Snape.”

James turned to walk away, disgust at his best friend roiling in his stomach. He had heard enough.

“Oi, where are you going?” Sirius called after him.

James didn’t even turn around as he answered, “The Whomping Willow.”

* * *

“A werewolf,” Vivian Snape cried. “He – that – a werewolf!”

The girl was shaking, her whole body, trembling like a leaf in the breeze. And all James could do was hold onto her thin arms and stare.

They were standing just out of reach of the Whomping Willow’s treacherous branches and the bright glow of the full moon shone brightly down on them in misleading comfort. The two had just escaped from the hidden passage beneath the great tree and both were more shaken than either had ever possibly been in their lives.

Completely rational behavior after one has just witnessed a werewolf transform in front of his eyes.

Except neither boy nor girl felt particularly rational at the moment. Mainly terrified. And on James’ part, livid. He wanted to throttle Sirius until next Tuesday. Maybe by then his friend would have some sense and responsibility knocked into him. 

“…could’ve been bitten,” Snape spluttered, jarring him from his thoughts of retribution. “Turned into a werewolf.”

Tears were streaming from her midnight-colored eyes and James found himself looking on with a strange kind of fascination. He had never noticed before, but her eyelashes were actually rather long. Not that he had ever been that close to her to observe that before, of course. But still, it was kind of…interesting.

“I knew you and your stupid friends hated me,” the girl choked out. “But I never thought you actually hated me so much you wanted me dead!” Her voice cracked on the last word and James felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“No,” the boy whispered, needing to somehow get a grip on this situation. “I mean – I don’t want you dead. And I don’t hate you either.”

Snape let out a deep shuddering breath, and for a moment James wondered if she was about to faint, but then she reached up and pushed her hands into his chest, shoving him away from her.

“Yeah, like you expect me to believe that?!” she sneered, emotion raw in her voice. “Five years of pranks and jokes and other cruel little tricks of your devising.” She wrapped her arms around her skinny frame and took a step away from him. “I don’t believe a word out of your mouth, Potter.”

James ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more than its already very disheveled state.

“I’m not lying,” he said, his tone desperate. “And I didn’t have any part in this tonight. It was all Sirius’ doing. I never would have –”

Snape just shook her head, her long raven-colored locks partially falling in front of her face. “Don’t,” she hissed, glaring at him even as tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. “Don’t say what you wouldn’t have done. Because – Because -” She turned her back to him suddenly and James watched as her shoulders began to shake violently. She stood like that for a moment or two, and just as he started to take a cautious step in her direction to – he wasn’t sure what – she spoke, her voice thick and strangled – like she was trying to hold back a sob.

“Because you’ve already done enough!”

James froze; his breath leaving his body in one long, slow exhale – similar to a deflating balloon. One which someone has pierced a single pin-sized hole into and all the air inside has leaked out in one long and slow whistling stream.

“You don’t even know me,” Snape continued, her back still to him. “Nothing at all. And you – and your awful friends – you treat me like I’m rubbish. Lower than the dirt beneath your feet. Like I’m some kind of blight to existence. And – and –”she let out another shuddering breath, “I don’t understand why.”

The girl broke down into a series of body-wracking sobs then, her small scrawny shoulders sharply rising and falling with each ragged inhale and exhale of air. James opened his mouth to say something – anything – but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say. Because…

She was right.

No, he didn’t hate her. He didn’t want her dead. But…he had never treated her like he exactly wanted her alive either. Sirius might have been the one to trick her into the tunnel that night, but James’ own actions toward her over the years hadn’t helped in the matter either. Hadn’t helped in preventing a night like this from happening.

Hadn’t helped in preventing an incident where someone might have been killed.

He closed his eyes, the terrible realization of everything he had done hitting him like a punch to the gut.

_She really could have died._

He suddenly felt very cold, like someone had poured the icy water of the Black Lake down the back of his shirt. A prank, he humorlessly thought, he would have deserved.

A heartbeat later, Snape resumed speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” she said questioningly, for a moment confusing James, but only for a moment. “Or because I’m quiet? Or that I like to read books rather than run around playing jokes on everybody? Or is it,” she took a long sniffling breath, “because I’m not pretty like – like –”

The girl abruptly grew silent.

James opened his eyes to see why she had stopped talking and discovered her whole body had gone still. No sound. No movement. Her shoulders stiff as a board.

“Snape?” the boy said, casting her a concerned gaze. “Are you-”

She whipped around and faced him, hands balled into fists and obsidian eyes flashing with fury and pain. In the bright light of the moon he could see several tear tracks glistening on her cheeks.

“Just leave me alone, Potter!” she snapped. “I despise you!”

And she pushed her hands into his chest again, this time knocking him back a couple of steps, stunning him. For a brief wild moment, James wondered if she was going to hex him as well, but she merely huffed and shot him one last cold glare before turning on her heels and heading back to the castle as fast as she could, her feet seeming to barely touch the ground in her flight.

As he watched the girl flee, James found his legs had suddenly turned to lead beneath him, and he dropped himself heavily to the ground, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

What had they done? What had _he_ done?!

_I despise you!_

The Gryffindor ran a shaky hand over his face as Snape’s parting words to him repeated over and over again in his brain.

He had been called names in his life. He had been humiliated more than a time or two – usually by his friends. He had even been in a couple of scuffles with some other boys over whatever petty nonsense.

But to be despised – hated – no one had ever told him that before. The thought made him sick to the stomach.

_You don’t even know me._

More of Snape’s words continued to echo back to him.

_I don’t understand why._

James closed his eyes. He didn’t either.

And then, like a final proverbial twist of the knife,

_She’s just a girl_ , his mind chastised him. _Just a girl. And you treated her like…_

He slammed a fist into the ground, a single tear sliding its way down his cheek as eyes the color of the night sky stared morosely back at him.

_Just a girl…_

* * *

“Rough night?” Sirius joked as James walked into their dormitory a half an hour later, his hair and clothes an unkempt mess and streaks of dirt and other outdoor debris riddling his skin.

“Shut up,” James snapped.

The eldest son of House Black sat up in his bed, tossing the magazine he had been reading – James’ new Quidditch one he noticed – onto the floor.

“Why are you being all pissy with me?”

James whipped around and glared. “ _Why_ , Sirius? _Why?!_ Are you bloody kidding me right now?” he snarled. “She could have died!”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “But she obviously didn’t.”

James clenched his hands into fists, a surge of anger coursing through him. “You are such a git,” he growled, and he turned toward his own four poster, wanting nothing more than to crawl into its comforting softness and close the curtains, more than ready for this terrible conversation and night to be over.

The sound of feet hitting the floor and striding across the room behind him, however, signaled that his dormmate was not.

“You’ve got something you want to say to me?” he barked in James’ ear.

James tensed at his challenging tone but didn’t turn to face him, instead replying, “No, I think it’s already all been said.” And he stepped away from the other boy, kicking his shoes off and grabbing a pair of pajamas and a towel from his trunk.

Sirius breathed loudly behind him, a sign his temper was rising, and it was barely a second later when he pounded a hand on the side of one of James’ bed’s columns.

“It was only a sodding joke!” he thundered. “Why are you being such a bleeding baby about it?”

James threw the pajamas and towel on the floor and whirled wildly in his friend’s direction. “Because she could have DIED, Sirius!” he roared. “How are you not getting that?! She could have died and it would have all been because of -” He quickly stopped himself from finishing that sentence. He had already reasoned he was as much to blame in all this mess as Sirius was; he wasn’t about to lay it all at his best mate’s feet now.

Sirius, on the other hand, didn’t know that, and sneeringly finished it for him. “Because of me, right? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

James shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

The other boy made a scoffing sound. “Yes, it was. That’s exactly what you were going to say. That she could’ve died and it would have been my fault.”

James opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal once more, but the words died on his lips. What would be the point? Sirius was all fired up now, and he tended to not listen when he was like that. It would be worthless to argue with him.

So he said nothing.

Which possibly only angered the other Gryffindor more, but whatever…he was done worrying about his feelings for the night. He wasn’t the one who stared straight down the jaws of a werewolf!

And a moment later, like he almost could have predicted he would, his friend struck at the bed column one more time then spun away, his feet slapping loudly against the cold stone floor as he retreated once more to his bed.

When James heard the snap of his bedcurtains across the room, he sank slowly onto his own mattress and stared up at the crimson canopy above him. He knew he needed to shower and change his clothes, and he especially needed to remove his glasses before he really did fall asleep with them on and break them, but he found he had no energy to do any of that now.

He had no energy for anything actually.

Except to think and remember.

Of a girl with eyes the color of midnight.


End file.
